130 Bird Comrades 



swallow a part of the pulp, and drop the rest to the ground. 

 What part of the grape did he eat? That is the precise 

 problem I could not solve with certainty, for on examin- 

 ing the rejected portions that had been flung to the ground 

 I found that one seed still remained, together with part 

 of the pulp and all of the broken rind. I half suspect, 

 though, that Master Junco likes to tipple a little never 

 enough, however, be it remembered, to make him reel or 

 lose his senses. No! no! a toper Master Junco is not; he 

 is too sane a bird for that! Would that all the citizens 

 of our republic would display as much sound judgment 

 and self-control. 



Where all the birds sleep on biting winter nights it 

 would be difficult to say, but the acute little juncos lease 

 the farmer's corn shocks hard by the woods. At dusk 

 you may startle a dozen of them from a single shock. 

 They dart pellmell from their hiding places, chippering 

 their protest, and when you examine the shock you find 

 cozy nooks and ingles among the leaves and stalks, where 

 they find couches and at the same time coverts from the 

 sharp winds. As you stand at the border of the woods 

 in the gloaming you can hear the rustling of the fodder 

 as the juncos move about in their tepees, trying to find 

 the choicest and snuggest berths. Usually they select 

 the tops of the standing shocks, perhaps for safety; yet 

 some may be found also in the shocks that have partly 

 fallen to the ground. 



In the latter part of February the juncos began to 

 rehearse their spring songs, which were a welcome sound 



